An Old Friend
by CaitlinMF
Summary: When a powerful man takes serious actions, he finds he is unable to deal with the outcome **Future fic**


** Title: An Old Friend ** Author: Caitlin ** Rating: PG13 ** Pairing: None ** Genre: Future/AU/Drama ** Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or locations used in this piece of fiction. They are the property of DC comics and WB ** Summary: When a powerful man takes serious actions, he finds he is unable to deal with the outcome **  
  
*** An Old Friend ***  
  
Leaning back in his chair, he raised the crystal glass to his lips. The amber liquid flowed down his throat as he swallowed, burning as it went. He smiled, savoring the moment. But it was quickly cut short with a knock at the door.  
  
"Yes," he snapped unpleasantly.  
  
A middle-aged man stepped into the room timidly, a silver-coloured case in his hands.  
  
"What do you want, Peters?" the rich man questioned, still not moving from his place in his chair.  
  
"I uh - I was told to deliver this to you, sir. It's the package you requested from Cadmus Labs," the man called Peters answered.  
  
A small grin crossed the seated man's features. "Ah, yes. Bring it to me," he commanded. Peters immediately moved forward and cautiously placed the case upon the expensive desk, careful not to disturb any of the haphazardly stacked files and papers strewn about. Setting down his brandy and pulling the case closer to himself, the wealthier of the two opened the case to reveal a large syringe filled with a glowing liquid.  
  
"Very well. You may leave now, Peters," he instructed, carelessly dismissing the man who then briskly exited the high-rise office.  
  
Removing the syringe from the case, the remaining man examined the contents of the syringe, watching the liquid flow smoothly around within. "Yes - very well indeed". And with a laugh, he picked up his brandy once again and swallowed the rest of the burning liquor, thoughts of a certain man's fate running through his sinister mind.  
  
***  
  
"Everything is in place, sir. It should only be a few minutes until his arrival," the man informed his superior.  
  
"Have we spotted our target yet?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Our agents have located him just a few miles out," the first man replied, before walking away at his superior's words.  
  
Reaching into his coat pocket, the man who had precedence over all that night removed the small silver case, and flipped it around a few times in his hands. He then looked upon the horizon and spotted his enemy approaching rapidly. Within a moment, he had landed upon the roof of the building, fierceness etched in his younger features. The wealthy man grinned from his place now behind an air duct. Seeing his men move into place, he withdrew himself from the shadows and into the open, letting presence be known. It was then that the realization dawned on him. It was now time. Time for him to change the face of history and bring darkness into the light of the world at hand.  
  
"Glad to see you could join us here this evening. Isn't it a wonderful night?" he spoke out.  
  
His enemy would not let mindless chatter lead him away from the purpose he believed he was there for. "What do you want with me?" he finally countered.  
  
"With you? Oh, I just want to have some fun. You don't mind now, do you?" the wealthy man teased dauntingly.  
  
"You may have tricked me into coming here, but I will not let you do anything more. I will see that you be brought to justice," the younger man said, a fierceness in his voice like no other.  
  
The wealthy man and his accomplices laughed humourously. "Really now? Well, I don't see how that will be possible considering that within a few minutes you will be as good as dead," he retorted. And with a nod to some of his men standing nearby, the action began.  
  
The younger man saw what was coming at that moment, and reacted with a brilliance of speed. But as soon as a few of the black men opened small cases each of them held, the younger man's feat proved to be unsuccessful. He dropped to the ground in pain, yet still struggled to fight despite the agony.  
  
The wealthy man smiled. "See, what did I tell you? Good as dead. Now, to finish the task . . ." It was at that time he withdrew the hidden syringe and took a few steps closer to the younger man.  
  
"Goodbye Superman," Lex Luthor said with a devilish grin as he plunged the needle of the syringe into the red and blue-clad being's neck, injecting the refined green liquid rock.  
  
It was then that younger man fell. His veins pulsing madly, his skin taking on a pale-green tinge. "Why Lex?" he managed to question between gasps for breath.  
  
"Because you are not of this world. Because you've been nothing but trouble since the day you showed up in Metropolis," the bald billionaire spoke "and because you're time has now ended,"  
  
To that, Superman uttered one greeting; "Goodbye Lex,"  
  
Those words, the way he said that name. That face, though now a sickly mask of pain. They weren't recognizable until now to Lex. And the reality dawned on him . . . he was killing his best friend.  
  
"Clark? Oh god, no. I didn't know it was you!" Lex almost yelled, exasperated. Clark Kent; his friend from his years before, the teenager he had confided in, the friendship he had once cherished.  
  
"I'm . . . sorry . . . Lex," Clark/Superman mustered as he then spoke his last words and breathed his last breath.  
  
It was the end - the death of Superman and the kind-hearted farm boy from Smallville, Kansas.  
  
All at the hands of an old friend. 


End file.
